


fondly regarded in the fading afternoon light

by bellygunnr



Series: start it up / put him in [3]
Category: Half-Life
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Choking, Coming Untouched, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Face-Sitting, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Body Worship, Oral Sex, Pegging, Praise Kink, Showers, Tenderness, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25442032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellygunnr/pseuds/bellygunnr
Summary: YFLTL "deleted" scenes. This is not their first time.Barney and Gordon finally get a weekend off and make the most of it with a romantic sunset dinner. And some badly needed sex.
Relationships: Barney Calhoun/Gordon Freeman
Series: start it up / put him in [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810111
Comments: 10
Kudos: 134





	fondly regarded in the fading afternoon light

Pale summer sun fills the kitchen with warm, off-white ambiance, drawing out the mismatched array of colors scattered across the tiny room. A ratty blue tablecloth draped over a wooden dining table with plastic chairs clustered around it, accompanied by a stained throw rug in front of the refrigerator. An old, clunky coffee maker whose plastic has become sun-bleached, hand prints permanently etched into its form, acting as guard to heavy ceramic jars that are labeled with thin tape. Loopy, stylized lettering denotes their contents, often punctuated by slightly-peeling stickers. Barney hums softly to himself as he opens one of these now, scooping out a generous portion of what’s inside and casting it into a pot of boiling water.

To his left, the counter is occupied by scattered flour and yellow dough. Gordon uses his broad hands to fold and stretch the pasta into submission, relishing in what little sensations he can still glean from his nerves. He coaxes it into a slightly thick, flat layer that’s mostly even in shape, save for irregular edges that he’s long since learned to ignore. With a deft hand, he picks up his chosen knife and starts to make long, thin strips of the dough, carefully prying the noodles free from each other as he finishes. They get arranged onto a plate, folded into a haphazard mess that Barney acknowledges with a pleased laugh.

With the water yet to boil, Barney starts a second burner which he tops with a stainless steel pan. He turns to busy himself with divvying out portions of garlic and butter, but the ingredients are already prepared, meticulously arranged in a familiar, Gordon fashion.

“Thanks, heart,” Barney says, reaching for his arm. He pulls him close, bringing his head down for a peck on the cheek. “I can rely on you.”

Gordon kisses him on the mouth in return, smiling against his lips. When they split, he gestures to the stove, apparently anxious about their time-sensitive nature.

“Pan’s gotta heat up,” Barney explains, kissing his cheek again. “You hungry?”

Gordon nods, still smiling. “Are you?”

“Absolutely. Haven’t eaten all day,” he says, looking pensive. “Still can’t believe I was called in early for maintenance.”

Finally, Barney drops the pads of butter into the pan, satisfied when they immediately start to melt. He adds the garlic in a moment later, just as the pot of water brings itself to a boil. Gordon appears then, dropping the fresh noodles into the salted water.

“Three minutes,” he signals, looking to Barney for confirmation.

“A little under,” Barney amends. “Closer to one than two.”

Gordon nods, drumming his fingers over the counter top as he waits. He watches Barney nurse the butter sauce into fruition, the smell of garlic quickly overtaking their shared space. It’s not long before he has to fish the pasta out, grasping them in metal tongs so that he can deposit them immediately into the pan. Barney takes over from there, letting them soak for all of a moment before tossing the contents with a practiced flair.

Gordon beams, always impressed by the display, before hurrying to set out the table. Plastic plates made to look like ceramic, stamped with the Black Mesa logo, are all that’s available to them. At least the cutlery is nice, heavy and solid in his hands. He arranges it so that they’re sitting next to each other, rather than across. It’s nicer that way, thinking of the way their knees would bump together every now and again as they ate.

“Hot food,” Barney says, approaching with the pan.

Gordon immediately skirts around him to fetch glasses, filling each with ice and water. The pale sunlight is warm on his skin as he stands in it, briefly glancing out into the outside world. He only hurts his eyes-- it’s far too bright in the concrete jungle. Luckily, he doesn’t have to look at it for long, as Barney is already beckoning him on. He sets the glasses down before settling into his usual chair.

“And how’d your work go, Gordon? I haven’t had the chance to ask,” Barney says, watching him even as his hands work over his plate.

“It was… exhausting. The sample they gave me for the Anti-Mass Spectrometer broke on the elevator, so we had to shut everything down and resonate the pieces with an older model. I didn’t even know Black Mesa had multiple AMSes,” Gordon replies, pausing between hand motions to also start at his food. Black pepper, basil, and red pepper flake had all been added since the meal’s conception.

“Neither did I,” Barney says, eyebrows rising. “That explains that, then. I saw Dr. Green and Dr. Cross fighting sometime today.”

Gordon shakes his head, exasperated. “The dinner’s delicious, Barney.”

“Thanks to you! You’re amazing with dough, sweetheart.”

He can’t help but blush at that, suddenly invested in his noodles. Fresh pasta was a major step up from the dried stuff, though apparently both forms had their uses. It was also just a relaxing process, being able to convert all his worries into dough.

“We both have tomorrow off, right?” Gordon asks, tapping his plate.

“Ah, no. They gave me a four hour at… two in the afternoon, I think,” Barney says, frowning. “But we’ll get to sleep in all the same.”

Before Gordon could come up with a response, Barney grins at him, eyes shining with mischief. He puts two fingers to his mouth, split into a V, tongue wagging between them. Gordon makes a strangled expression, reaching over to smack his shoulder as the other bursts into loud, warm laughter.

“Awh, is that not on the table tonight, darlin’?”

“Only if you behave,” Gordon says sternly, face burning.

“Oh, I’ll behave,” Barney says.

The rest of their meal concludes in relative quiet, knees pressed together and silverware tacking against plastic plates. The sunlight has warmed slightly, framing the kitchen in an orange glow and illuminating the dust whorls until Barney draws the curtains back together. It was getting warm, he’d have said should Gordon have asked, but he kisses him instead. It’s a brief, almost chaste matching of mouths.

“Clean up for tomorrow?” Barney murmurs, pressing loose-lipped kisses along Gordon’s jaw. His thumb plays across the scratchy fibers of his beard until he nods, expression instantly lighting up.

“Shower with me, maybe?”

Gordon nods again, rolling his eyes with affection.

The dorm’s bathroom was a tiny, utilitarian thing with the bare minimum. Gordon lingers outside the door as he watches Barney undress, surprisingly meticulous about how he sheds his clothing. He’d love to help, love to run his hands over his strong body, feel everything he could, but there simply wasn’t enough space. There was even less room in the glass shower stall, but they had made it work before. He makes no secret of watching Barney’s backside as he steps onto the slightly raised platform, the door left ajar just for him. He had a firm, very prominent ass, damn near sculpted.

“Get in before the water gets cold, Gordie,” Barney calls, catching his eye from beneath the stream. The temperature was already spiking from where he stood, affected by the hot water.

Gordon steps in after him, skin shuddering as he passes from cold to hot. The tile floor is chilly underfoot as well, but it’s not long before he’s squeezing into the shower after Barney, letting the door click closed. Almost immediately, the air becomes humid and warm, punctuated by the water cascading overhead.

“Have I told ya you’re beautiful today?” Barney says, wrapping his arms around Gordon’s waist. He kisses him before he can answer, making a noise of content when hands find his shoulders, bringing them both closer together. They’re slow about it, simply relishing in the presence of one another, the world finally stopping long enough to let them have it.

Gordon runs his hands down Barney’s shoulders to his forearms, squeezing the flesh, reminding himself of the power underneath. His fingers follow the curves of his body to his chest where he prods experimentally, groping over the muscle. Their kiss deepens when Barney gasps, letting tongues slip in with aggression. He runs his tongue along Barney’s, straining to push deeper, but it’s there that space finally opens up between them.

“Come down here, love,” Barney says, voice tinged with a drawl. “Let me take care of your hair.”

He licks his lips as he complies, bowing his head for ease of access. Their height difference wasn’t drastic, but leveling the playing field definitely helped reduce muscle strain. His nostrils flare as Barney cracks open a bottle of shampoo, coconut and Shea butter permeating the moist air. A moment later, the cool solution is being generously deposited onto his head.

Barney massages the thin mixture into his hair, broad finger tips kneading patterns against his scalp. Tangles are negotiated with expert ease, soothed by both the shampoo and his gentle administrations. Gordon finds himself wrapping his arms around Barney’s neck in a loose manner just to use him as a support. With every scrape of blunt fingernails across his scalp, more tension seeps from his muscles, eyelids threatening to flutter shut.

“Keep with me, love,” Barney hums, voice a low rumble. “You’ve had such a long day. Are you ready to rinse?”

He sighs with contentment, reluctant to move, but rising to his full height anyway. His stomach feels fluttery, prickly heat tracking up his spine and filling his face, overwhelmed by the man before him. Water splashes off their bodies as they change positions, allowing Gordon to put his head beneath the hot stream. Sudsy coconut washes from his hair in foamy rivulets, though it’s not enough to mask the feeling of hot hands against his skin. He leans into Barney’s hands as he gropes and paws at his hips, eventually grabbing his rear and squeezing.

“God, you’re so handsome, Gordon,” Barney says thickly, looking up with nothing short of adoration in his eyes. As the last of the suds wash away, he reaches for the conditioner, their routine starting anew.

Gordon places a kiss on his mouth as he stoops down, further peppering Barney’s stubbly jaw with them. Hot water beats down between his shoulder blades as he does so, but it doesn’t deter him like the squeeze of conditioner on his head does. He raises a silent brow, as if to pose a question.

“We can kiss later,” Barney laughs, working the conditioner into his scalp. He kneads soothing circles, nails scraping off and on, into his curly hair. “Awh, you’re cute when you’re poutin’.”

It doesn’t take long for the conditioner to be worked into every inch of his hair, letting the damp strands hang around his face. Once again, the two change positions, hands clasping onto each other so that they didn’t bump into anything.

“Thank you,” Gordon says, smiling. “Your turn, heart.”

“I’m all yours,” Barney says, cheeks pink. “Darlin’.”

At that, Gordon smiled so wide that his teeth showed and his eyes crinkled, dimples forming in his cheeks. He fumbles Barney’s shampoo, the slick bottle nearly shooting out of his hands, but steadied at the last second. It smells spicy, strong but pleasant, as he deposits a small dollop into his hair. With his hair so short but thick, it takes no time at all to work the substance into a foamy lather.

“Those hands of yours are amazin’,” Barney murmurs, head tilting up into his hands like a cat. When Gordon rakes his nails across his scalp experimentally, his back arches into it, a low growl of content leaving him.

A soft, soundless laugh escapes Gordon, endeared. He drums his fingers along his head to mimic the running water, which has Barney wordlessly leaning under the stream. Gordon keeps working his fingers through Barney’s hair as the lather rinses away, kneading and scratching. To his delight, it leads to strong hands clasping his jaw and pulling him down, mouths meeting for a kiss.

This time, it’s Barney that leads in with an aggressive tack, tongue running across damp lips and not waiting for permission. He licks into Gordon’s mouth, exploring the edges of his teeth and tasting him until the other replies. Gordon snags his bottom lip and sucks, just for a moment, teeth ghosting across the flesh. Heat shoots from his belly to between his legs at the low growl Barney produces, vibrating beneath his fingertips. Carelessly, he rakes his nails across Barney’s chest in his effort to grip his hip, yanking them both closer together.

Yet, as they move, the hot water jumps from cascading over Barney’s backside to flowing directly into Gordon’s face, causing him to leap back with a flailing of limbs. His eyes sting as conditioner runs off his curls, forcing him to shake like a dog just to get his hair out of his face.

“Careful, Gordon!” Barney cries, reaching forward to steady him. Strong hands clasp his arms, bringing the gangly limbs away from the flimsy shelving units attached to slick shower walls. “Like this, now. I’ve got you. It’s alright,” he says soothingly, even as his voice shakes with repressed laughter.

He runs his hands over Gordon’s frame as they rinse his hair out properly, only to switch positions again. Conditioner for Barney’s head, massaged in with nimble, delicate fingers, and body wash worked into Gordon’s skin with a fluffy white rag. His nose scrunches with concentration, soft words starting to leak half-formed from between his lips.

“I love every part of you,” Barney mumbles. “Every freckle, every scar, every little mark…”

Almost reverently, Barney scrubs soapy circles into Gordon’s skin, following the lines of his lean muscle. He was a tall, lanky man, only built because of the stressors of his job, all bony edges despite his best efforts. Freckles smattered the flesh in distant clusters, patterning his ribs and stomach, just barely visible beneath red body hair. Barney runs his fingers through the thin happy trail dusting Gordon’s stomach, following it from his navel to his groin, thumb digging into the divots there. He lingers, thoughtfully scrubbing his thighs clean even as water starts to wash over his head in controlled bouts. The proximity sends blood straight from his brain to his dick, especially as he spots evidence of Gordon’s own arousal.

“Gordon,” he breathes, looking up at him, eyes wide. “I think I… I definitely know what I want to do tonight. Can you-- can you sit on me? Like before? Again?”

“Yes,” Gordon says, eyes shining with something new. “Right now?”

He cocks his hips as if to emphasize, but Barney shakes his head.

Just then, the water overhead starts to run cold, bringing Barney to swear violently in shock. Above, Gordon writhes, quickly dancing out from under the stream, sharp elbows popping open the shower door’s latch so he could stumble outside. Barney would have laughed if he wasn’t feeling so confused-- and cold. With a groan, he pushes himself upright, hoping he didn’t look as dejected as he felt.

“Don’t worry about me, Gordon,” Barney says to empty air. Louder, he adds, “I’m gonna finish up here!”

Gordon only feels a little bad about abandoning Barney like that, but there was no way in hell he was going to take a cold shower, even if his elbow was bleeding from where he checked the latch. He furiously rubs himself dry with a large towel, wrapping a second one around his head to dry his hair. The cool air is already making him shiver, though it’s not nearly enough to distract him from the uncomfortable sensation between his legs. Apparently, nothing was going to stop him from being horny. Hopefully, Barney could survive the same, as that half-chub he had been rocking was doing things for him. Barney also just had a very nice dick, one that was very nice to hold.

He ducks into Barney’s room where the ambient temperature is much warmer, encouraged by the red sunlight filtering in through the window. The desert’s rocky terrain could be seen, a rolling expanse of sand and stone, gilded by the fading afternoon light. He sighs heavily. They had a couple hours left until night time fell, that was for sure. He busies himself with collecting their discarded clothes into a pile, a task to be completed tomorrow. With that cleaned up, he starts to dig into the bottom drawer of the dresser, retrieving several articles that would be more useful already out then not.

Silence fills the room as the shower finally shuts off in the next room over, leaving only the muffled ambiance of various electronics and crickets outside. Gordon settles himself into the bed, still very naked, as he waits. He fidgets with the cap on their bottle of lube, popping it open and closed until Barney’s heavy footfalls are detected. With a smile, he sits up, unabashedly running his gaze over the other’s entire body.

“Like what you see?” Barney teases, approaching him. Thankfully, he’s already mostly dry, black hair sticking out in random places. Stubble still clings to his chin, as neither of them had elected to shave, but it gives him a rugged appearance that’s only intensified by the lighting. The bed creaks as Barney drops down beside Gordon, wrapping an arm around his waist.

In turn, Gordon presses something into his free hand-- a small black object that made noise when squeezed. Their safeword object, should other countermeasures fail. He smiles as Barney gives it a single click before setting it aside.

“I love you,” Gordon says, leaning in for a kiss, tongue flashing out.

Barney twists to meet him, open-mouthed and gentle against the scraping of teeth and snip of canines. He drapes heavy arms along Gordon’s shoulders, using the weight to bring the man down, kiss deepening. Cold, wandering hands track over his body, lingering over the raised flesh of scars with dull nails. The bed creaks as they move into each other, blankets mapping the progress of their bodies. Hot breaths mingle, reminiscent of the shower, but so much more intimate here.

“Gordon,” Barney breathes into the kiss, redirecting a bite into a lick.

With his last attempt refuted, Gordon breaks the kiss entirely, grabbing at Barney’s wide jaw. He tilts his head up, exposing the soft flesh of his throat and neck, fingers just barely digging into his cheeks. A dangerous look was in his eyes, breaths coming out in pants.

“Bad,” Gordon signs, snarling slightly.

Barney’s face flushes, lightheaded from just how quickly his blood rerouted itself. He drops his hands into his lap, peering at Gordon expectantly. To his surprise, Gordon releases him.

“On your back,” Gordon directs.

He’s all too eager to comply, scooting into a more comfortable position on the bed. He lets himself go boneless against the mattress, relishing in the sensation of cool fabric against hot skin. It’s enough for him to be surprised when a solid weight suddenly presses down onto his torso, locking him in place. Knees dig into his waist and a soft, heavy presence settles over his groin. He looks up to watch Gordon speak.

Instead, he gets distracted by the shadows arcing across his lean form, exposing high cheekbones and long eyelashes. His thighs bulge with muscle as he makes his way further up Barney’s body, clearly taking his time, expression hard but hungry.

“You look so good, like an angel,” Barney blurts. “You’re so strong. You always treat me so well, Gordon…”

Closer, closer, Gordon creeps, hands groping over Barney’s pecs and exploring his collarbone. His arousal is obvious from here, just peeking out from his cunt, slightly damp. It’s a warm sensation over his stomach, one that sends electricity down his spine.

“I want to put my face between your legs so bad,” Barney says, voice thick, yet nearly whining. Nasally in his effort to restrain himself. He digs his fingers into the bed sheets, having learned long ago to keep his hands to himself. “I’m gonna make you feel so good. I want to,” he babbles, eyes darting around to catch the signal.

It comes-- a twist of the wrist, a very specific action reminiscent of Gordon’s HEV training. Barney immediately raises himself onto his elbows, grunting with the effort, while Gordon stands on his knees. It brings his groin to Barney’s eye level. Yet, before he can act, there are fingers tangling into his hair, shoving his face into the space between Gordon’s legs.

His nostrils flare with surprise, taking in that heady scent, mouth and face suddenly occupied. Blindly, clumsily, he starts to feel with his tongue, nose pressed flat against Gordon’s dick. With a strangled noise, he finally lifts his hands to grab at his thighs, groping up to his ass. He grips the soft flesh there like a lifeline, groaning raggedly.

It’s damp heat and sloppy noise as Barney laps into the wet space, tongue following every ridge of flesh. His breath comes in short, slightly restricted bursts, half-aborted mewls getting lost in his fervor. Gordon rolls his hips and Barney shuts his eyes, licking stripes from stem to stern, not caring for any noises he might make. He knows that Gordon loves it when he’s loud, and his volume is never an exaggeration.

Gordon shoves his hips into Barney’s face once again, grip tightening on his short black hair. His thighs are trembling with the effort of supporting himself, but it’s a simple matter to put more of the load on Barney-- relaxing ever so slightly into his hands, letting his head bear some of the weight. Heat and electricity zip down his spine and into his lower belly at the sight, eliciting a raspy, barely audible moan.

His vision blurs at the edges when a hot, insistent warmth wraps around his cock, all flicking tongue and soft lips. He twists and pulls at Barney’s hair, keeping his head exactly where it is so he can hump against his face, lightheaded with the obscene sounds coming from below. Muscles straining, he forces himself to look at Barney, taking in his messy face half-buried by hair and pussy, searing the memory into his brain. Indulgently, he drags his cunt across his face, nearly losing it completely at his wrecked expression.

“Gordon,” Barney tries to say, all hot, growling breath, but it gets lost completely when Gordon’s resolve snaps. His shock doesn’t last long, turning into resolve, tongue working to lick him through his orgasm. Fluids make a mess of his face, dribbling into his mouth and down his chin-- even his chest, as another spasm has Gordon squirting. The sensation goes straight to his straining cock, untouched and neglected since the start.

Without much warning, Gordon’s thighs finally give out, his body dropping like a stone onto the bed. He doesn’t fall completely-- Barney catches him, strong arms and hands wrapping around his torso and cradling him there, ear pressed to his chest. His heartbeat drums a rapid, grounding rhythm that Gordon just tries to breathe with.

“Feelin’ alright, darlin’?” Barney murmurs into his ear, voice a husky burr. “You’ve worked hard. I think you deserve a little break.”

Gordon peers up at him, tentatively rubbing a thumb over his cheek, smearing a stripe of drying cum. He mimes cleaning the rest of his face off with a cloth, looking at him expectantly.

“Clean up first, huh?” Barney says, reluctantly releasing Gordon.

Gordon nods eagerly, already rolling off the bed to stumble to the bathroom. His thighs feel like jelly, shaking as he walks, but he manages to disappear around the corner.

Barney takes the brief moment of isolation to sit up, taking stock of his surroundings. The bed was thoroughly wrecked, the red blankets tangled up and gradually sliding onto the floor, but the harness, dildo, and lube were still folded up on the corner. He pats around for the clicker item, tapping it several times before returning it to the pillows. With that completed, he reaches over for the lube, popping it open.

Gordon shouldn’t mind cleaning him up while he was preoccupied  _ too _ much…

Still, the clear solution is cold on his hands as he squeezes out a dollop. He warms it across his fingers before leaning back, body once again sinking into the mattress and pillows, legs spreading wide open. Nervously, he checks the door, but there’s no side of Gordon yet. Good, but he didn’t have much time to waste.

It’s a struggle to ignore his dick, but he bypasses it to spread himself open, grunting with the effort. He wasn’t the most flexible person, but that was okay-- he didn’t plan on staying in this position long. He runs the pad of his index finger around his hole before slowly easing inside, the feeling far more familiar than it had been the first time. Carefully, he works the digit in farther, giving himself a few short pumps. Satisfied, he starts to work the second in, rumbling in the back of his throat with the effort.

So caught up in this, he doesn’t notice Gordon step back inside, or the shadow fall across his form. He relishes in the feeling of slowly working himself open in short, cursory pumps, disregarding the strain. It takes the bed squeaking, dipping on one side, for him to open his eyes, mouth open with faint pants.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmurs, grinning loosely. “That for me?”

Gordon kisses the top of his head in answer. He curls up into Barney’s side, bracing one hand on his chest so that he could start dabbing his cheeks with a damp cloth. A floral scent floods Barney’s nostrils, soothing and familiar. He lets it wash over him, humming softly with the easy pace of his fingers and Gordon’s scrubbing.

Briefly, Gordon’s free hand drifts down to Barney’s stomach, scratching gently at it. When the last of the mess is cleaned up, he finally kisses his mouth, green eyes alight with adoration.

“I love you,” Barney says again, breathless as he removes his fingers. “Oh, you’re already wearing it.”

They both look down. Indeed, Gordon’s slid on the harness which is closer to a pair of shorts than anything. The dildo is already snapped into place, digging into the meat of Barney’s thigh. It’s a garish bright pink and completely smooth, but the best thing they could find.

“I’m ready when you are, darlin’,” Barney hums, reaching up to run his fingers through Gordon’s hair. “But, oh God, please try touchin’ me, I’m dyin’ over here.”

Gordon breathes out a laugh at that, but moves to comply. The bed shifts and creaks beneath them-- neither of them try to dwell on how much louder it sounds than a few months ago. Pick and choose your battles, and all that.

Gordon runs his fingers along the inside of Barney’s thighs, rubbing slow circles into the sensitive skin. He works his way to his balls, gently cupping them, rolling them in his hand. He squeezes them between his palm and thumb, eliciting a long, needy whine from Barney.

“God, Gordon,” Barney whines, hips jerking up.

Gordon wraps his hand around the base of Barney’s cock, squeezing firmly. Then he catches his eyes.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Gordon says slowly, offering him a sly smirk.

“Yes, sir,” Barney breathes, cheeks flushed with arousal.

“And tell me how I’m doing,” he adds, gently pinching his thigh. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You ain’t gonna hurt me,” Barney says, spreading his legs wide. “I trust ya. You’re so gentle, and carin’, god, look at you. I know you’re gonna fuck me so good,” he babbles.

Gordon relishes in the praise, lightheaded as he starts to lube up the strap-on. It’s not very large, but he still coats it generously, warming it between his hands. Pleased with his work, he starts to guide the tapered end to Barney’s rear, applying pressure.

“That’s good,” Barney says, voice eager. “Juuust like that, darlin’. Real good. All the way in, please,” he continues, almost begging. “Fuck,” he groans.

Gordon has his nails dug into Barney’s calves as he deigns to acknowledge his request, easing himself all the way to the hilt.

“You can move,” he says, face flushed. “Or- or I can. Let me do the work, please? I could fuck myself on you all day.”

Good God. Gordon can only nod furiously, raking red stripes into Barney’s legs with his arousal. As Barney starts to move, working his hips up, he does it again, swallowing when he sees his dick twitch in response.

“Been waitin’ for this all week,” Barney says, words slurred with raw arousal, groaning. His muscles roll and flex with each rock, showing off every scar and blemish he might have. “You feel so good, you know that? You treat me just right.”

Gordon meets Barney’s next roll with a thrust, watching his expression for minute signals. He swallows hard as Barney simply knocks his head back and moans, hands clawing at the sheets.

“Do that again,” Barney growls, trying to work his hips faster, cracking a hazel eye open. Realization dawns on him the next second. “Please,” he adds, panting. “Please do that again.”

Gordon does meet him again, matching the quickened pace with a short thrust. He leans over Barney, pulling him forward for a hard kiss, swallowing whatever harried words he might have uttered next. Clumsily, Barney latches onto his arms, hips lurching unevenly.

The kiss breaks with a gasp, but Gordon tilts Barney’s head back and keeps it there just so he can lick and bite at his throat, relishing in feeling more than hearing every noise he makes. He digs in hard with his teeth, grunting when Barney bucks his hips.

“Fuck, Gordon! Fuck, yes,” he cries, squeezing Gordon tightly. He’s moving a bit erratically, trying to grind his cock against Gordon’s frame.

Gordon allows it, leaning deeper into Barney, their rhythm shifting yet again. His nostrils flare against Barney’s bare flesh, inhaling his scent-- slightly spicy, freshly washed, but sweaty with exertion. Impulsively, he licks a stripe from his jaw to his ear, nibbling the lobe.

“Right there, right there,” Barney moans, low and guttural, voice loud from proximity. “You feel so good, know exactly where to go, fuck.”

His words melt into unintelligible babble, his skin flushing a deep red all the way from his cheeks to his chest. Sweat makes his skin shine, glinting in the low light of a dying sun, rippling across sinewy muscle. Red scratches stand out in wild patterns across his thighs, legs, and stomach, interspersed with bite marks that are more bruises than teeth. The sight goes straight to Gordon’s head, and he clumsily raps his knuckles across the hard edge of his collarbone.

“Oh, god, yes,” Barney says, locking eyes with Gordon. “Do it right now, please, just like that--”

Eagerly, Gordon complies, wrapping a hand around Barney’s thick neck. He levels his thumb just over his throat, digging it into the flesh with the natural cadence of their fucking, making Barney wheeze in predictable intervals. At some points, he lets his thumb linger, heat curling at the jumping gasp Barney takes.

“Oh, fuck,” he wheezes, and Gordon panics as Barney spasms underneath him.

Then it hits him-- literally. Barney’s cumming right on his stomach and chest, noises reduced to little mewls and gasps as his orgasm tears through him. Some even gets onto his own belly as his muscles finally give out, exhausted, trembling with overexertion.

Gordon blinks rapidly, breathing hard. Tentatively, he slides himself out, eyes widening when the action elicits one last spurt from Barney. He crawls into his side, looking him over with confusion, and maybe a hint of smug pride. Relief floods him when he finally flutters open his eyes, smiling dazedly.

“Darlin’,” he mumbles. “That was reaaaal good.”

Apparently satisfied, Barney flips over onto his side, heaving with the effort. He drags the nearest pillow underneath his head, instantly dropping down on it, eyes closing. Despite being messy and undoubtedly sore, he seems to fall right asleep, leaving Gordon to blink and stare.

Tomorrow was going to be a hell of a cleaning day.

With a fond smile, Gordon ignores his instincts to at least try and clean up, only withdrawing long enough to strip himself of clothing. His muscles ache as he climbs back into bed, the once-warm sunset now replaced by the pitch of desert night. He drapes an arm across Barney’s snoring waist, sleep overtaking him just as easily.

-

Barney awakens to searing light shining directly into his eyeballs and the sensation of being freshly run over by a train. He opens his eyes with a dry, scratchy groan, throat aching with the effort of producing any noise at all. Every part of his being feels heavy and dead, twinging with pain or stinging as he contemplates movement. God, what the hell happened last night?

“Jesus Christ,” he rasps, rubbing at his face, then recoiling. He felt utterly disgusting all over, and a quick glance to his right tells him his lover isn’t feeling so hot either. “Fuck,” he greets Gordon, eloquently.

Gordon only nods, swaying as he tries to crawl out of bed. Evidence of last night is stuck dry to his stomach. Further investigation reveals that hardly anything was spared from that particular mess, though.

“Did I do that?” Barney says, whistling.

“We need to shower,” is all Gordon says in reply.

**Author's Note:**

> This was an absolute joy to write, and was HEAVILY driven and inspired by [Benrylover.](https://benrylover.tumblr.com/) They also created this amazing piece of fanart for the main fic, [here!](https://benrylover.tumblr.com/post/623060523392598016/there-was-a-scene-in-bellygunnr-s-fic-with)
> 
> this fic wouldn't have happened without them. not like this, anyway. They're delightful! I'd even go as far as to say that this was a collab. Look out for art to be added soon, too, once we get that figured out. Try to guess the scenes?
> 
> But uh... Gordon and Barney? Horndogs. Sorry!


End file.
